The Eyes Have It
by FaerieChild22
Summary: A phonecall leads to Harry discovering something unexpected about Ruth's family connections.
1. Story 1 - The Eyes Have It

Author's Notes: I'm putting this in the Spooks section on here but technically I think it is a Spooks-James Bond-Sherlock crossover except that doesn't really exist on FFN so I'm putting it in Spooks as that's the main FFN fandom for this story. Its sort of cracked, but I hope in a good way.

* * *

"Ruth? Care to explain?"

It didn't look good. Ruth knew that. Correspondence, secret phone calls, hiding things from Harry. They hadn't been together very long and they both had histories with other people. Suffice it to say that they were both a bit insecure about where they stood and Ruth understood that.

"I can explain."

"I hope so," Harry put down the phone between them. "There I was answering your phone thinking I was doing a nice thing for you. May I ask who 'James' is, exactly?"

"He hung up on you?"

"I'd say so," Harry said very quietly.

"We're not having an affair. He's...he's family. I mean, only biologically."

"Only biologically," Harry repeated.

Ruth sighed heavily and sat herself down on the sofa. It was going to take a minute to explain this. "You know that my father and I were very close. Well, that's because he doted on me, since before I can remember. He always wanted to be a father and he couldn't...he couldn't get Mum pregnant. They waited years and nothing ever happened. Eventually Mum went off and had a one night stand with some bloke and got pregnant that way."

Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"Yes, well..." Ruth cleared her throat. She could understand Harry's surprise, her own reaction had been similar when she had heard the tale from her mother the first time as a teenager. "Believe me, it took a bit of getting used to. I never had a clue until Mum spilled the beans in a drunken Christmas Eve confession one year when I was home for the holidays. Turns out the one night stand wasn't so anonymous. She knew exactly who my father was, they weren't together or anything but when I asked about my biological father was, she told me his name and that he was a civil servant."

"A civil servant or a _civil servant?"_

"I'll get to that," Ruth continued. "I sat on it for a while, all through uni, but when I got to GCHQ I got curious. I suddenly had all this information at my disposal and I very quietly made a few enquiries, looked a few things up. Turned out he'd died years ago in an accident with his wife. They had one son together. His name was James."

"So James is...your brother? You have a brother?"

"Yes."

"And you've met him?"

"Actually we bumped into each other by accident," Ruth said. A laugh burst out of her at how ridiculous it was. "I was sent to MI6 to share some information that they didn't want transmitted electronically. It was to be done the old fashioned way, verbally with a single paper copy. I was shown inside and into a conference room. I was some junior runabout at that point but it was important information. M was there, Mansfield. A number of others, as well. Tanner, I think? A couple of people in uniform and then there was a man in the seat to M's right wearing a tailored suit and staring at me with my very own eyes."

 _Ruth spent the entire briefing being unnerved by the sharp blue eyes staring straight through her down the table. He would tap his mouth with his finger and stare at her single-mindedly. The eyes of a killer. Eyes like her own. Only once she had divulged all the relevant information and survived a barrage of questions from M herself did the room finally begin to empty. Ruth felt a great weight lift off her shoulders as the feared boss of MI6 stepped out, her court heels clicking on the floor and down the hall._

 _Ruth sighed and closed her eyes, only to be startled horribly when she opened her eyes to find a looming statue standing too close to her. How on earth he'd gotten across the whole room without making a sound Ruth had no idea._

 _"Jesus! You scared me half to death."_

 _"Sorry." The man's grin was unrepentant."James Bond."_

 _"Ruth Evershed. Can I help you?"_

 _"I have no idea."_

 _"Right, well, if that's all?" Ruth gathered up her things and turned to exit the room. She wanted to get out of there. Being alone with this man was unnerving her._

 _"I don't suppose you'd fancy a drink, Miss Evershed?"_

"So there we were in the pub an hour later and to be frank I was only going to stay for one drink and then head for the nearest exit but somehow we got to talking about family and he told me he was an orphan, that his parents had died in a climbing accident."

All the colour drained from Harry's face. "Ruth, do you mean to tell me that the notorious 007 of MI6 is your _brother_?!" Harry exclaimed.

"Half-brother. Biologically. I mean we weren't raised together or anything but he doesn't have any other family and...he just calls from time to time if he's home long enough to sleep, eat and shag his Quartermaster."

"They let women be Quartermasters now? Dare I hope that our sister has dragged herself at last into the nineteenth century?"

"His Quartermaster's a man, Harry. Between you and me James is actually bisexual, but you didn't get it from me."

Harry opened his mouth to protest any statement to the effect that a man with the reputation of James Bond could be anything other than straight when the phone rang again. Ruth sent Harry a 'keep quiet' glare and picked it up to answer.

"Hi James."

"Ruth. Who was that?"

"Harry."

"Really? How is my little sister?"

"I'm fine James, thank you."

"Ask her!" A voice in the background insisted. There was a background hum of an engine coming down the phone.

"Is Q with you?" Ruth asked, knowing already that he was.

"We're going out for dinner at the Savoy." In the car James glanced sideways at Q, who was driving. "My treat."

"Well I hope you both have a nice time."

"I thought you might like to join us," James grinned down the phone.

"Oh, well, that's a lovely thought, James, really..."

"You could invite Harry."

"Well Harry might not want dinner at the Savoy. Harry might have other plans!" Ruth exclaimed.

A few feet away, Harry sat up. Suddenly he seemed to be paying a whole lot more attention. "Dinner at the Savoy?"

Ruth rolled her eyes. The pause on the line was pregnant.

"Tell her we'll see her in an hour," Q shouted from the driver's seat.

"Q says we'll see you in an hour."

"James! You are the worst brother ever! How can I possibly get ready for dinner at the Savoy and down there in an hour? James? James!"

Ruth removed the phone from her ear and stared at it. "Bastard!"

"What are brothers for?" Harry stood up. "I suppose I should probably get my tux on."

"I don't have anything to wear!" Ruth exclaimed.

"Nonsense. You have that beautiful red evening gown you were wearing last night."

"If it hasn't got cum all over it," Ruth muttered. "Did you have to do that while I was still wearing the dress, Harry?"

"Absolutely. You looked delicious, I wanted a taste," Harry leaned down and pecked Ruth's cheek. "The dress is fine, Ruth. Promise."

Ruth narrowed her eyes.

"My silk handkerchief on the other hand..." The rest of the sentence was lost as Harry walked out of the room and up the stairs to the master bedroom.

They pulled up at the Savoy in Harry's Land Rover five minutes late. Ruth was wearing the evening dress with a plunging neckline, heels and a matching clutch bag. It was offset by simple but elegant sparkling jewellery. Beside her, Harry's tailored tuxedo and commanding presence spoke of authority and he got a submissive bow from the attendant when he dropped the keys off for the car.

Harry had heard of 007 of course. He could not have sat in on so many JIC meetings with Olivia Mansfield without being aware of the exploits of one of her most notorious agents. Still, the man himself was surprisingly dashing in person and yet carried the lethal edge of someone who might kill you as soon as look at you. Harry had dispatched more than one person in his career, but he was a careful, clean and calculated killer. This man, Harry suspected, was violent and ruthless and yet the smile that graced his face when he caught sight of Ruth was laced with surprising warmth and at the man's side stood another man of similar height but a shorter, slimmer stature with a mop of dark, unruly hair sitting atop his head.

"James!" Ruth rushed forwards to hug her brother and as strange as it was, for two siblings who had spent most of their lives apart, there did appear to be genuine warmth between them. "God its good to see you. Still collecting scars I see?"

"Don't ask about Guatemala," Q leaned over.

"What about Guatemala?" Ruth asked. Suddenly her voice was laced with concern. The Americas usually spoke of drugs, money and a lot of murder. It wasn't a good place even for an experienced agent to operate.

"Nothing important," James insisted. "You look stunning."

Ruth blushed, "Thank you." In the corner of her eye Harry cleared his throat. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. James this is my...this is Harry Pearce. Harry, this is James Bond."

James reached out his hand and Harry shook it. In a single look they appeared to come to an understanding. James would spare him the overbearing brother talk simply because as James measured Harry up, he saw a man who on first impression very much lived up to his reputation as a ruthless bastard who was fiercely protective of those he considered his own.

James and Harry gripped hands tightly. It was a firm handshake. "I know you by reputation, of course," James offered. "I do believe M once called you 'a worthy sparring partner'."

That comment broke this ice, it was high praise from Mansfield. "She must be missed."

"Indeed," James agreed. "And this is..." James turned around to the other man and faltered.

"Fortesque Archibald Theodore Sherrinford Holmes. Acceptable forms of address are limited to Teddy if you're my mother, Archie if you're Mycroft and Q if you're anyone else. James likes to think we're together but really I'm just using him for sex."

Harry was slightly stunned. He had no idea Ruth had such connections. Her brother in law was a Holmes?

Beside Q, James's arm was winding around the younger man's waist. "Q darling?" James leaned in and kissed his ear which was followed by something being whispered too low for either Ruth or Harry to hear. Whatever it was made Q blush and push James away.

"Yes, thank you, James." Q deliberately seemed to feel the need to straighten himself up after James's comment which probably meant that whatever it was was dirty. "Ruth tell him to behave."

"What makes you think he'll listen to me?"

"He's your brother?"

"Never made a blind bit of difference before," Ruth told Q and then stepped forwards to take Q's arm leaving Harry and James to get to know each other. She realised she was probably dropping them in it somewhat, but they were both adults. They would have to learn to deal.

Harry watched the young man who called himself Q walk Ruth over to the bar and developed the sinking feeling that the pair of them probably got along like a house on fire. They were both of them clearly intelligent beyond their years and James had that sort of lurking, protective habit of someone who was happy to...lurk protectively.

"So," Harry fell in at James's side. "I suppose this brings new meaning to the phrase 'Inter-Agency cooperation."

"I suppose," James hummed. "So, who asked who?"

"Excuse me?"

"I've been listening to the ongoing saga of Ruth and Harry for six months now. I kept telling her to just ask you out."

"Did you?" Harry was surprised. "No, I asked her, actually."

"She was worried it would seem inappropriate," James offered his insight. They were getting near the bar now. Getting near Ruth and Q who seemed to be eavesdropping on their conversation.

"That wasn't a problem for you?" Harry asked James.

At that precise moment, Q turned around with a glass of champagne in his hand. "James lives for inappropriate. Our table's ready."

* * *

It was the first of many surreal evenings. Occasionally James or Q or sometimes both would turn up at his house, almost always at an inappropriate hour and always with alcohol. So there was that and over time he and Ruth settled down to get married and somehow Q managed to persuade James that he wasn't actually going to drop dead immediately if they put a ring on it and for the most part it was an odd but insignificant aspect of his life. Not until the next general election with a new Prime Minister in Number Ten did Harry find himself facing up against the problem of James's reputation in causing chaos. He was at Downing Street for his first intelligence briefing with the new PM and was greeted the moment he stepped in the door with a monologue about the reign of terror one agent caused in a rural part of Vietnam.

"Can't even figure out what he was doing there in the first place!" The new Prime Minister ranted. "And now I've got the Vietnamese Ambassador on the line demanding explanations and M's bloody gone to ground! Some bastard calling himself 007. Do you know him?"

Harry cleared his throat self-consciously. "Erm...yes, Mister Prime Minister. He's my brother-in-law."


	2. Story 2 - Sun Trap

Author's Note: The second story in this universe. Although I consider this to be a separate story, due to the publishing restrictions on FFN I am posting it as part of the work as this one to avoid any confusion.

Harry was in the garden when James called around. M had thrown him out of MI6 and Q, bastard that he was, had stood there grinning smugly at James's predicament. Realistically he had limited options for what to do in London right now. For various reasons he had to avoid several of his regular haunts and so he had found himself seeking out the company of his brother-in-law, a senior official in the sister service, MI5. Unfortunately Ruth was much too busy to have time for him but Harry, she said, was off for the day having worked through the night and James decided he wouldn't mind the man's company.

Harry was a spy like him. He understood when to keep quiet. He enjoyed the companionship of others who thought like him and James found him easy company. As it was the day was sunny and he opened the garden gate, a creak of the hinges giving away his presence, to be met by a shout from the back garden.

In the hot afternoon sun of July, Sir Harry Pearce was sitting out on the patio with his shirt unbuttoned , enjoying the sun. He had at his side a bottle of beer and a small jack russell terrier who seemed content to join in the worship of the sun.

"James!"

"Hello, Harry." James smiled fondly at the older man. As someone who was quietly bisexual, James had often wondered what Ruth saw in the man before him. He was short, fat, and had a legendary bad temper. But as he got to know Harry, James began to appreciate that the man before him was stubborn, loving and loyal to a fault. Still, looking at him now, James fought back a smile at the belly on display.

"We can't all have six packs, Bond."

"No, I suppose not."

"Would you like a beer?"

"Please."

The casual jacket that James had thrown over his polo shirt and shorts James peeled off as the heat of the sun trap in the back garden warmed him up and James helped himself to the empty seat beside Harry's. A beer appeared at his side and James picked it up and knocked it against Harry's with a smile.

"Slainte."

"Slainte," Harry smiled. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Boredom?"

Harry chuckled warmly. "Forced down time?"

"M said if I came back within forty-eight hours I'd be shot."

"Again? That seems rather cruel."

"How did you know I'd been shot?" James's brows drew together in confusion.

"According to a certain someone we have matching scars."

James paused for a moment, shrugged to himself and then tore his top off.

Harry pulled his shirt aside to reveal the gunshot wound in his own shoulder. He examined James's rather more toned torso. It wasn't that he was intimidated by Ruth's brother, but Harry had always been reluctant to take his shirt off and it was curious to note the myriad scars on the other man's chest. Quietly at the back of his mind, Harry found himself contrasting and comparing.

"Come on, then," James prompted.

"Come on what?"

"Shirt off, Harry. I've shown you mine."

"I've shown you mine as well," Harry pouted. "James, I think we both know I'll never be able to compete in the torso department."

"Off!" James insisted.

"You've been hanging out with that Quartermaster of yours too much," Harry grumbled. "You never used to be this bossy."

"We could always play strip poker?"

"James, I think we both know..."

James's stare was uncompromising. With a resigned sigh, Sir Harry leaned forwards and slowly peeled the shirt off his back revealing a myriad of scars and torture wounds. Quietly he categorised them. A skim by a bullet, the knifes, the cigarettes, the burns.

Beside him, James Bond snorted loudly. "No fucking wonder, mate. That's some collection. Of course, I'd show you mine," James said quietly, "But Ruth would be liable to think we're having an affair."

"I won't tell if you don't."

Surreptitiously, James looked at either side of the garden wall, wondering if the neighbours were in. "Well, I never did believe in tan lines anyway," James grinned and whipped his shorts off.

Beside him, Harry Pearce chuckled. He was perfectly used to male nudity from his time in the army and in other countries it was considered perfectly normal. In a back garden in London, however, it was bound to get a few odd looks. "If we get arrested, James Bond, I am entirely blaming you."

"Well," James decided, "It will serve M right."

An hour later, Ruth Evershed arrived home and called out to Harry who had been sleeping during the day after spending all night on the Grid. She had left slightly early and gotten home sharp and so the sun was still high in the sky as afternoon turned to evening and Ruth wandered through the house, checking the living room and the kitchen. With no response she decided he was probably in the garden enjoying the sun and opened the kitchen door to be met with an eyeful of full-frontal nudity.

"James!" Ruth covered her eyes.

Harry at least had the decency to keep his trunks on. He was lying on his front with all of his scars in full view.

"Ruth?" Harry's jaw cracked as he yawned and he realised he must have dozed off in the sun. "Is it that time already?"

"James, what on earth are you doing here?"

"Oh, he popped round," Harry stretched and swung his legs off the end of the sunlounger so he could stand up. "Is everything alright?"

On the neighbouring sun lounger, James looked up. "Hello, Ruth."

"Harry," Ruth said, still staring at James, "There's a naked man in our garden."

"James popped over," Harry repeated.

"Why is he naked?"

"Because I decided if we were going to get arrested for indecent exposure it should probably only be one of us and kept my trunks on."

Ruth glared at Harry.

Harry floundered slightly. "He was bored. I was sunbathing. James decided to try sunbathing."

"Without clothes?"

"We didn't start out without clothes, we were comparing scars..."

"...and one thing led to another?" Ruth queried.

"We're actually having an affair," James announced.

Ruth hit him over the head with the Evening Standard.

"Ouch!"

"That's for sleeping naked in my garden and that," Ruth hit James again, "Is for joking about shagging my husband."

James considered this a moment and then shrugged, considering it a fair punishment. After all, another woman might have shot him again. Probably through the same shoulder.

"I suppose the little smart-arse is coming over for dinner as well?" Ruth demanded.

"I expect so," James rubbed his head. "Q usually has at least three trackers on me at any one time and he was entirely too smug when M threw me out this morning."

Nearby Harry began searching for his clothes. "I suppose I should pop the barbeque on."

Ruth rolled her eyes at the thought of three men and a barbeque. They might get dinner cooked by nightfall, if they didn't set the whole neighbourhood on fire. James, however, only stretched out under the fading sun and shifted his legs a little wider. "Oh for the love of God, James, put some shorts on!"

Q did come over and they did have a barbeque and they manged to only singe a few pieces of garden furniture. James let Ruth be wound up a little longer but eventually acquiesced to slipping on the shorts that he'd arrived in. No one got food poisoning. Rather unhelpfully, Q found the whole saga hilarious and complimented Ruth on the seclusion of the little spot that meant they had a perfect spot away from prying eyes. It had never occurred to Ruth that a blind spot at the back of the house would ever be put to such a use.

Three days later, Ruth was putting the bins out on the street on her way out to work when Mrs Jones who was out on her morning walk wandered past along the pavement. Ruth knew Mrs Jones by sight because her garden backed onto the garden of Harry's house and the elderly woman winked at her and poked Ruth with her walking stick.

"I should probably tell you, Lady Pearce, your husband had a bit of company over the other day," Mrs Jones winked at Ruth.

"Oh?" Ruth checked her watch. The bus left in eight minutes and it was a five minute walk. "Oh you probably mean James."

"James," Mrs Jones smiled, "That's a nice name. Have you known him long?"

"A few years now, actually," Ruth checked her watch again.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, Lady Pearce, I'm not one to judge. If you and your husband enjoy a bit of male company that's up to you. I only thought I'd ask...does he often do house calls? Only I can't get out like I used to on account of my hip and I thought if you knew of a nice young man like that..."

Ruth was caught speechless. Oh dear. What was she going to tell Harry?

Endnote: I always love reading everyone's reviews. I would love it if you took the time to leave me your thoughts.


	3. Story 3 - Rats, Rogues & Routers

Author's Note: This is the third story I have written in this universe. These stories aren't being written with the intention of being in any particular chronological order, but due to the tagging restrictions on published works on FFN as compared with AO3 I am putting the stories in this verse together on FFN to avoid any confusion. This universe is a crossover between Spooks, James Bond and Sherlock.

* * *

The Quartermaster of MI6 sighed and shook his head as he looked at the pathetic remains of the router cable. It was the third time this week it had been chewed right through. Most privations of the tunnels Q could put up with for the benefits of solitude and silence to get on with his work. James affectionately called it his underground lair and lovingly joked about Q taking over the world one day. Q had honestly thought about it but had decided it was difficult enough getting a day off as it was.

The wi-fi router, however, was one thing he could not do without. There was only one thing for it: the rats would have to go.

It was Saturday morning in a grey and sleepy London and Ruth Evershed stood in the hallway on her way in the door and pinged one of Harry's braces and leaned up to kiss him. He stood beside her with a cup of coffee dressed in his trousers, shirt and braces. His jacket still sat hung over a chair in the kitchen and his tie was shoved in the glove compartment of his car. In ten minutes he would be leaving himself to go to the Grid but Ruth wasn't going to work that morning, she had something else just as important to do.

Harry smiled warmly and kissed her back. He would miss her today because Ruth was not going into work that day. She had something much more important to do.

"She'll be fine, Harry."

"I'm still not sure about this."

"Scarlett is in the best hands."

"Of course," Harry nodded and then kneeled down to fuss over Scarlett and kiss her goodbye. When he stood up he pressed his lips together making Ruth laugh at the worried expression on his face as she kissed him goodbye and closed the door on him.

Scarlett Pearce was a Jack Russell terrier with a happy, gregarious disposition and she was Harry's darling. The happy little dog trotted along eagerly at Ruth's side as they made their way to the tube. Scarlett got plenty of attention and every so often she yipped happily as someone fussed over her. Their destination that day was a secret location, an underground bunker that had recently been converted into the lair of the Quartermaster of MI6. After a small incident with the main building, the man known as Q had decamped to secret tunnels underground and after doing extensive work on cabling, damp and setting the entire place up as a Research and Development lab, he was reluctant to move out again with the rest of the service just as he had finally got the place up to scratch.

There was, however, one small problem. Rats. Rats and sewers went together like bread and butter and it wouldn't have been such an issue if the amount of cabling being eaten wasn't quite so serious which was why a certain family member was going to be adopted out for a few hours, or a few days, to deal with the problem.

They were met at the door by a white, balding man of average height who introduced himself as Bill Tanner. He shook Ruth's hand and Ruth was surprised to discover he was really quite senior in the Secret Intelligence Service and, apparently, on good terms with her brother.

"Bond speaks very highly of you."

"I wasn't aware he talked about me!" Ruth said.

"Oh, not at work much. Socially. In the pub, that sort of thing."

"James goes to the pub?"

Bill Tanner smiled a warm, friendly smile. "I'll have to invite you along some time. I know Eve has been dying to meet you."

"Eve?" Ruth queried.

Bill chuckled. "Eve Moneypenny. Another colleague. She rather takes after Mansfield."

"James must love that."

"They have their moments," Tanner agreed with a secretive smile. "Shall we?"

Tanner led Ruth from a nondescript street through a grubby doorway in a brick wall and down a set of damp, concrete stairs with poor strip lighting. They emerged into a brick built hallway which took a series of turns before emerging through a set of double doors into a large, dry room that had the air of a redeveloped industrial space. Ruth wondered if it had been some sort of storage facility once upon a time. She knew Harry would probably know. Underground London was crawling with tunnels and spaces that varied in age from centuries-old to cold war era and even some more modern than that and simply because of his job, Harry's knowledge of London was near encyclopaedic.

Once inside, Ruth took a moment to scan the room. There was a large area for dealing with weapons. There was a large desk piled high with books on everything from computers to physics to engineering and microbiology. There were boxes of hardware and cables and bits of gun sights and some highly specialised equipment that took centre stage at the desk where the Quartermaster himself was working. To one side sat a battered, duct-taped laptop littered with faded stickers and a few yards away towards the other end of the room was a radiator beside which sat a cat bed, a litter tray and some kibble and water.

At the sound of the door opening, the Quartermaster didn't move but kept peering down the microscope he was using until he was finished what he was doing. Finally the Quartermaster pulled away and looked up and when he saw who his visitors were the corners of his mouth turned up.

"Ruth," Q nodded his head. "How very good to see you."

Ruth couldn't help but smile back. Q was a unique man. Intelligent, mild-mannered and quiet but beneath his unassuming nature lay a quick wit and sassy tongue that had earned him the respect of every agent in the Service. His technological innovations had become legendary across the intelligence world and his activities always held the edge of danger that only a former enemy hacker could engender after switching sides.

Unlike everyone else in the world of espionage, however, Ruth had first become acquainted with Q not through her line of work but through her family. Her half-brother James Bond had begun a relationship with his Quartermaster and to everyone's surprise they were not only oddly well-suited to each other but seemed to be sticking it out.

"Harry sends his compliments."

"Likewise," Q's eyes twinkled and after looking over Ruth for long enough to check that she was well, he let his eyes fall to her companion, waiting patiently at heel. Scarlett's chest seemed to puff out under the scruitiny. "Scarlett Pearce, I presume?" Q asked the little Jack Russell.

Scarlett barked once in acknowledgement.

"Pleased to meet you, Scarlett. My name is Q."

Ruth stifled a giggle at the serious expression on the Quartermaster's face. There was no doubt that Scarlett was intelligent but to see the Quartermaster of MI6 treating her as full-blown operative seemed to be doing things to Scarlett's ego. At her side, Scarlett's head rose half an inch as she sat as tall and proud as her petite stature would allow. "As you're on secondment and will be working independently, I had a name badge made up for you," Q told the little dog and then glanced at Tanner who pulled a plastic ID holder out of his pocket and kneeled down to the floor. With all the gentleness of a new father, Bill Tanner reached out and clipped the ID tag onto Scarlett's existing collar. "Naturally it has a fast-release mechanism in case of any entanglements and I'll also need an iris reading so I can set the biometric readers accordingly."

"Biometric readers?" Ruth asked.

"So she can get around. I'll be quite busy, I'm afraid. You're quite welcome to stay here but Scarlett will have to work independently in the tunnels. How does Sir Harry feel about nanoblood?"

Ruth shook her head.

Q wilted slightly, and then picked himself up. "Trackers?"

"She's got a microchip."

Scarlett yipped again. Ruth didn't put it past her to know exactly what was going on. Her tail was already wagging eagerly and it didn't look like the cat kibble left in the bowl would last very long the moment Scarlett was given permission to leave.

Q sighed heavily, "I suppose that will have to do. Thank you, Bill." Tanner politely made his retreat, talking about a meeting with M while Ruth looked at her watch and wondered whether she would have time to go into town. "Its fine Ruth. Enjoy your day and I will be quite alright from here."

Some hours later, after treating herself to a wander round the shops and a soothing visit to evensong at Saint Paul's, Ruth waited for Harry at a local cafe near their work and together they made their way across the river to Vauxhall Cross.

Ruth tried to reassure him. Scarlett had looked so eager. Q would surely use every precaution. She could look after herself.

"I don't know, Ruth," Harry shook his head, "Rats can be nasty business."

"Scarlett can look after herself," Ruth tried to reassure him, "She's tougher than she looks."

"Tough as old boots," Harry agreed. "Still..."

Ruth hooked her arm through Harry's and settled in a little closer at his side as they walked. "Q made her up an ID badge."

"Did he?" Harry looked surprised and, if anything, a little moved.

"Do you know, he brings his cats to work?"

"Scarlett's never been around cats. Apart from Fidget."

"Q assures me they're much too busy bossing 006 around to bother with Scarlett."

"I wonder sometimes how much they know, our pets. Do you think they know what's going on?"

"Oh yes," Ruth exclaimed. "Of course!"

Sir Harry Pearce didn't look entirely convinced but he loved Ruth and he trusted her and so just this once, he put his heart in her hands.

In an underground lair, near Vauxhall Cross, the Quartermaster of MI6 looked in wonder at the pile of corpses on the floor. Beside him, 007 nodded his head in wondrous approval.

"Ok, that's impressive."

"Natural ratters, Jack Russell's," Q stood up a little straighter. "Ruth's idea was brilliant."

"This was Ruth's idea?"

"Who else do you imagine could persuade Sir Harry Pearce to second his dog across the river."

"Bitch," James corrected.

"Sorry?"

"Scarlett's a bitch, actually."

Q tilted his head in that particular way that let James know that Q was particularly exasperated with him. "007, I'm not a complete idiot."

James Bond put his hands in his pocket to hide his reaction to the Quartermaster's sniping. James always found it strangely erotic and he laughed an open, warm laugh at Q's reaction.

Q tutted, which seemed the thing to do around Bond when you didn't know how else to respond. At their feet, Scarlett responded to the sound of tiny pattering feet and shot out into the tunnels again. The sound of her petite paws pounding the floor retreated. There was a moment's silence and then they heard her again, panting heavily as she dragged in a dead rat that was nearly as big as her and added it to the pile, wagging her tail and looking to the humans for approval at her good work.

"Double-o-Scarlett," Bond quipped and then hunkered down to fuss over her ears.

Q looked over at his boyfriend and when his eyes met Bond's, Q's eyes twinkled mischievously. They generally had a no kissing at work rule, but Q thought they might shortly have given in just this once had they not been so rudely interrupted by Alec Trevelyan, code name 006.

"Absolutely bloody carnage, my Darling!" Alec grinned. "Bloody great bloodbath. God, I love that dog."

"Bitch," Q and James said simultaneously and then burst out laughing leaving Alec a muddle of confusion. Behind him, two cats each held a dead mouse in their mouths and added them to the pile. Scarlett eyed these creatures warily, who trotted around like they owned the place. The first time she had tried to chase them, but the humans had been very angry at that. She supposed for the joy of chasing rats all day, she could probably live with them.

Ruth led the way in, through the grubby door and down the stairs. She pressed the buzzer and went through Q's iris-recognition security measures. Ruth knew that Q had probably been tracking them all over London, he certainly had the capabilities. It might look like an easy place to break into but that was the magic of the Quaretmaster. He had all sorts of ingenious ways of disguising his technology. It wasn't just anyone who could walk into this place and Ruth felt strangely privileged, even as she laughed at Harry's twitchiness.

"I'm worried about her," He pouted.

Ruth patted his hand. "I bet she's been a gem. Come on."

They were met by a group of people. Q and James they knew, the other man was introduced to them simply as Alec. He seemed to have a close if somewhat childish bond to James and neither Ruth nor Harry knew quite what to make of him.

"Sir Harry," Q greeted him formally. "I believe I owe you."

"Everything alright?"

In the background the one calling himself Alec burst out laughing. "Alright? The little terror's rounded up half the rats in London. Christ, I could use her on a mission sometimes. Quick bite to the bollocks, get past security-"

"Alec!" Q snapped. "Behave!"

Alec bit his tongue. "Bloody dictator. First you wouldn't let me blow up that oil tanker, then you veto my Kremlin thing and now you're turning down my equipment requests."

"What Kremlin thing?" Harry's ears perked up.

"Nothing important." Q's smile was reassuring but Ruth could bet that those words would be file away in the back of Harry's mind for future notice. In the end they were led through a series of tunnels and server rooms to a small boiler room in the back which had been set up with food, water and a dog bed in the warmest corner of the room.

Sir Harry Pearce's heart softened, he kneeled down and his beloved Scarlett ran up to him and jumped up to start licking his face. He looked her over carefully, checking her for any scratches or bites but she looked whole and hale and happy at seeing her master.

"I should probably warn you at this point...that tongue has killed at least three dozen rats today," Q chirped.

Harry very carefully pushed Scarlett away just far enough to stop her licking him. He winced. "Do you think I'll get rabies or black plague?"

Q tilted his head and winced. "Both?"

Ruth and James looked at each other, both finding the remark rather amusing. Harry, less so. It was then, as he carefully avoided Scarlett's eager tongue, that Harry noticed the ID and took pains to read it.

"I'm afraid they adopted her," Q began, "The double-o's. On account of her kill rate."

"00S?"

"Its just an honorary thing, obviously."

"You've turned her!"

Ruth had never heard Harry so hurt.

"Its a good thing, Harry. He set up the iris recognition software he has for the cats for Scarlett as well," Ruth explained.

Harry looked uncertain and, if anything, slightly angry. "Under no circumstances will my dog be working for MI6, is that clear?!"

Even James Bond winced at the sharp rebuke. Ruth tried a soft 'Harry...' but nothing would change his mind until Scarlett looked up at her master with such a mournful, woebegone expression that even Sir Harry's hard heart was moved.

"Scarlett," Harry tried to reason with her.

Scarlett whined pathetically.

Sir Harry stared her down but Scarlett's expression left no room for doubt. Finally, emotionally blackmailed by his own dog, Harry Pearce gave in. "Oh, blood hell!"

In the doorway, Alec Trevelyan gave out a loud whoop. Scarlett Pearce was let down on the ground and did a few leaping circles of joy.

"I think Alec would be a suitable liason officer, given Ruth's busy schedule," Q proposed, "What do you say?"

Harry's eyes darkened menacingly as he stared at Alec who wondered what he had done to earn the wrath of the head of Counter-Terrorism at MI5.

"Or, I could ask Eve Moneypenny..."

"Alec will be fine, I'm sure," Sir Harry suddenly backed down. "Good god, Scarlett and Eve could probably bring down the kingdom together if they so wished. Is it true she has a new girlfriend?"

James Bond shrugged innocently. "Haven't the faintest, Harry."

"Really? There was a rumour going round about some french woman. Assassin's daughter."

"No idea," James stepped forwards and patted Harry on the shoulder, hoping he would drop the whole thing. "What do you say to a trip to the pub?"

"How about The George?" Ruth suggested looked around the group. "We could introduce you to everyone." Q looked slightly afraid in a way that made Ruth smile at his adorableness and she fell in beside him. "They'll love you, Teddy."

"Don't call me that."

"Sherrinford?"

"No."

"Archibald?"

"Don't you dare!" Q pointed threateningly at Ruth who had the temerity to laugh in his face.

Together the group started to pick up their things and head toward the exit. Q shut down his computer and picked up his parka.

Ruth shook her head at the man who she suspected was going to be around for some time. She liked him, she honestly did, and he was so good for James. "Why is the man who's got the most deadly assassins in the Commonwealth under his thumb afraid of a few colleagues? They'll love you."

James cleared his throat pointedly. Hopefully.

"You, they'll put up with," Ruth told her brother in no uncertain terms, "Just don't shag any one."

"What about me?" Alec spoke up, an air of curiosity in his voice after Ruth's statement.

"Oh, you can shag him. You don't count as 'anyone'," Q clarified.

Ruth and Harry looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

When Q, Alec and James said nothing more Sir Harry cleared his throat and then addressed the proud little terrier in his arms who perked her ears up at the sound of her name."Scarlett," Harry said carefully, "You didn't hear that."

Scarlett Pearce trotted up the steps of the underground station and made her way unobtrusively to a small dog flap in a nondescript grubby door. She waited as her collar triggered the electronic identification in the dog flap and let her in. Down the stairs she went, presenting herself at the low-level eye reader to open the double doors that led into the large, open lair of her new boss.

Behind his desk, Q looked up and smiled. "Good morning, Scarlett. Are you ready to get to work?"

Scarlett wagged her tail happily. "Excellent. Let me fetch your ID."

Endnote: Please leave a review. I always love hearing from my readers.


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